The Year at Hand
by Foxpilot
Summary: The year at hand draws near, with all the chaotic partying it entails.  We must remember to not forget those we know best, nor the old acquaintances.  A gift.


"**So then, I know this is late for a Christmas story. But I really didn't have any ideas—even now, I'm kinda winging it. But thanks to a very good recommendation, this here is a New Years story rather than its intended Christmastime theme.**

"**This, above all else, is a gift to all my FF friends, who have been so great and accepting of a random stranger who goes around poking his nose into their business. So thank you…thank you one and all. Merry Christmas, happy Boxing Day (for those who celebrate it), happy New Year, and may old acquaintances be remembered.**

"**If I owned the Smash Bros., I would put up a way to make a Christmas-themed stage without hacking. Let the festivities…Begin!"**

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The pale moonlight settled gently into the fresh snow as the clouds moved away, making the gathered ice crystals glitter radiantly. Not a single footstep marred the surface—though certainly not flat due to the contours of the surrounding land and the random machinations of nature, the lay of the fallen water had a look of immaculate planning that would defy disturbance on this most peaceful night. All around the grounds of the Smash Compound, white melded with the scenic darkness of the night to paint a highly memorable picture in Link's eyes.

Not since Snowpeak had the Hero of Hyrule seen such a magical sight. Last time, though, he had been forced by circumstances to trudge through the snow as both the chosen denizen of Hyrule and as the blessed twilight-formed wolf of the Goddesses. Now, as he sat nestled in the dormitories of the Compound, wrapped in a green woolen blanket and grasping a steaming mug of heavenly cocoa, the Hylian reflected silently on his adventure with the cursed Twilight Princess back home.

Snowpeak hadn't been pleasant. Garbed only in the traditional green tunic and light pants of the previous Hero and weighed down by chainmail that had begun to rust from the interminable snowfall, Link watched as the mountainside of the colossal region whipped by his eyes. The frozen leaf he rode on jarred with each miniscule shift in the snow's surface. The giant creature he was racing—a male yeti of great size and heart—taunted him from ahead, thinking nothing of his new friend's continuing quest to save the cursed land from the evil Zant.

Though Link was a neophyte to the ways of sledding—Ordon got very little snow—he gritted his teeth and crouched down, reducing the resistance his body provided with the wind whipping around him. Suddenly, the yeti dropped from sight—a ravine! Cursing in his mind, the Hero of Twilight readied himself to try and jump the formidable gap—

Link flinched in surprise as a gentle knock sounded at his door. Several drops of the still-steaming cocoa—a great rarity in Hyrule that was plentiful here—spilled over the thick lip of the mug and scorched into his inner thigh. Being used to pain, Link didn't cry out. Rather, he took a momentary, calming breath, gingerly placed the mug down onto a nearby table, and stood with measured grace. Frowning at the already-dry chocolate stains on the exquisite material of his leggings, the heroic Hylian made for the door, which had produced a second knocking sound. "Hello?"

The voice on the other side was of moderate pitch; it was slightly rough and nasally, but rang with authority brought on by over a decade of war. Fox McCloud had no doubt to remind Link of the holiday festivities that were to take place quite soon. "Link? Yeah, it's gonna start soon. I hope that you've been resting; Master Hand wasn't pleased when you fell asleep during his year-end speech." As wry as ever.

"I'll be awake this time, but there's another problem."

Fox was clearly puzzled. What problem could Link have this time? "Okay; and it is…?"

"I stained my only pants with chocolate."

Normally this wouldn't be a concern. Smashers—especially Wario—ran around with stains on their clothes all the time. Though the Smash Compound sounded highly militaristic, the rules were fairly lax. In fact, the only reason it was called a "compound" was because it was built to keep threats _out_. The Pokémon rebellion a few months ago notwithstanding, the security had proved to be successful.

Fox sighed on the other side of the door. "You know you can't be late. What about that fancy armor you've got? I'm sure you could call it a 'festive New Years outfit'."

New Years. The reason Master Hand was holding this festive occasion was a holiday from Solid Snake's world. It was supposed to embody cheer, comradeship, forgiveness, and redemption. There was some also the matter that it counted as the day that Snake's Earth completed its yearly revolution, but that was supposed to be beside the point. The Magic Armor Fox had referenced bore plenty of blood-colored velvet fabric alongside regal jewels and shining gold; certainly festive-looking attire. But it was too fancy for such an occasion. When Link expressed this, the vulpine gave a grunt of understanding. "It _was_ a bit of a stretch. Hold on—maybe Zelda has some sort of…thing for this."

Though quite ineloquent, Fox made sense. Much as the advanced technology of the upright vulpine's home, Lylat, was utterly foreign to the rustic Link, the magic of Hyrule was an enigma to the anthropomorphic animal. But it would be easier for Link to go instead…

"That's a good idea, Fox. I'll take care of it, though. You go ahead down to the party—I'll catch up. Besides, isn't your team supposed to be visiting?"

Fox didn't miss a beat. "Yes, they are. Aren't your friends from Hyrule coming, too? Master Hand invited everyone we know, after all. Friends, family…even Wolf gets to have his team here." Fox's tone took on a slight edge at the mention of Wolf. The aptly-named Wolf O'Donnell, a hulking being for someone who lived in Lylat, headed a rival mercenary squadron to Fox's Star Fox. But what really got under McCloud's fur was one of the Wolf's teammates, a suave cat by the name of Panther Caroso. Not too long ago, Fox had fallen out with his girlfriend, an alien vixen by the name of Krystal. Krystal had become embarrassed and ran to the nearest source of comfort—Panther. The onyx cat and the blue fox had dated for some time before McCloud managed to patch up his relationship—at least somewhat—with Krystal. Though the two vulpine pilots were now dating again, Fox had lingering doubts and subconscious jealousy. He'd want to be at Krystal's side before his perceived rival made his appearance.

Link gave a quiet smirk behind the door as he gathered the presents for the party. "Go on then, your team's probably waiting."

"Alright." Though foxes were known to be silent walkers, McCloud's footsteps sounded on the oak-paneled hallway floors, announcing his retreat from Link's door.

Link rubbed a calloused thumb over the stains in a futile attempt to force them out. When that failed, Link pulled his standard fingerless gloves from his belt of impossibilities—as the Smashers called it—and made for the door, pulling the worn leather comfortably over his hand. Hopefully, Zelda wouldn't be at the party quite yet.

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She wasn't, thankfully. As it was, the Princess of Hyrule had been acting uncharacteristically girly and applying a delicate eye shadow around the stunning blue orbs she saw out of. She presented Link a small tube of a resplendent clothing purifier before completing the task at hand. Link moved awkwardly to a corner of the room, hopefully out of reach of both Zelda's eyesight and the reflection cast onto the ornate antique mirror Zelda was using.

The two finished their tasks at the same time and accompanied each other to the party. From the top of the stairs leading to the main lobby of the living spaces, the Hylians' ears picked up several noises. The sound of crunching refreshments was oddly delicate, as though even the chips were in a peaceful mood; the hum and dribble of the celebratory chocolate fountain caused both Smashers' mouths to salivate without warning. Soft music flowed gently through the corridors of the resident hall, lightly flowing through the heads of all of the gathered listeners. All of these, though, were background dancers to the true star of the scene: dozens of conversations carried on, fighting for dominance in the limited space and ultimately intermingling to form a sort of delighted buzzing as friends separated by time and space reunited for the magical evening.

As one, Hero and Princess descended the flight of stairs covered in an inch-deep rug patterned with plants and snowmen. The handrails were constricted by shimmering silver tinsel that caught the moderate lighting and displayed it like a child who had just caught a firefly. As the couple touched down on the landing and turned, they were greeted by the grandest sight the Smash Brothers could offer.

People and creatures of different sizes, races, body shapes, abilities, and dispositions flooded the room. At this level, several different conversations could be picked out. To the left were Fox and his team, reunited for the first time in over two years. The lead vulpine seemed to be having difficulty balancing his time between friends, love interest, and romantic rival—Panther was chatting with Wolf in a distant corner. Link could have sworn he was the cat in the spacesuit give McCloud a surreptitious smug look. Fox's sudden scowl seemed to confirm that.

In the center of the room, Samus, Pikachu, and Pit were discussing something involving much action. The yellow mouse was taking turns on both of his friends' shoulders, seeming incapable of deciding whether tight-but-mushy spandex was more comfortable than angelic cloth. He probably also didn't wish to offend either of his pals—not that either was unreasonable enough to take a decision as favoritism. The Pokémon displayed great agility and balance as angel and huntress made mock-fighting motions to emphasize whatever grand points they were making.

Over to the right, though, was the biggest attraction for the night: the dance floor. Behind the immaculately-constructed music stand, three official-looking men shook all manner of anatomy in perfect synch with the music; the legs, arms, and heads of the Elite Beat Agents set the example for the half-dozen Smashers partying in what looked like an informal dance contest. Mario was pulling out every move he could muster against Luigi, who had invoked the legendary summoning dance for his Negative Zone Final Smash. Ike and Toon Link put their sword training to use, both calling on the special attacks they had learned during their individual quests to display a fascinating combination of hard-edged fighting and rhythmic choreography to the unending orchestral version of the epic Star Wolf theme music.

The ones really taking the stage, though, were Donkey Kong and Bowser, whose massive bodies moved with surprising grace in a dominating and powerful display of pride, testosterone, and muscle. Turtle and ape fought with motions, intensifying their individual efforts as the music reached its climax, then returning to a less terrifying pace as the song looped over again.

Link and Zelda joined the crowd watching the six dancers. Though they had paired off, it seemed that the challenge was not only who could dance better, but who could last longest out of the entire group. The entire world seemed to lean in, giving its sole attention to the grand competition between expert fighters, whose stamina seemed to know no bounds.

Toon Link was the first to tire. Though his moves were bold and made for conserved momentum, the youngest member of the six competitors was still inexperienced. The sweat leaking from under his trademark conical hat began to run into his eyes; his movements began to slow and become less organized. But still the young swordsman made every effort, not giving up until finally he tripped over his own right foot and collapsed. Ike, still dancing, offered the young seafarer a mighty hand. Gracious in an honest loss, Toon Link took it and allowed himself to be helped up. The crowd applauded the youngest competitor with gusto.

As Ike turned his attentions to the Mario Brothers, the crowd shifted its focus to the beasts. Neither was willing to give an inch nor quarter—the contest between Bowser of the Koopas and Donkey of the Kongs was intense and attention-drawing. But it became clear that one of the two had a major disadvantage: a heavy, spiked shell. Before long, Bowser's movements began to mirror Toon Link's before him. The king of Koopas tried to make up for this by sweeping DK's legs out from under him, but the ape was too agile and performed a stunning flip to avoid the attack. Bowser's attempt at victory threw the royal turtle off balance, causing him to fall on his pointed back and spin like a top. Mario and Luigi both gave laughs while the ape released a victorious howl. Bowser crawled off as the four remaining contestants turned to each other.

Mario, Luigi, Ike, and Donkey Kong continued on, putting their souls into the game. This was no longer a dance competition; it had become a Brawl Combat where physical attacks were illegal. Only be showing grace and stamina could one of them hope to win.

Unfortunately, Ike was a master of neither. Attempting a mock-Aether attack, the mercenary sprang high into the air. But Aether relied on the blessed sword Ragnell to balance out Ike's large body. Without the counterweight, Ike continued to tumble and landed unceremoniously on his backside. With much applause from the onlookers and congratulations from the three other dancers, the resident of Tellius pulled himself up and walked offstage with the dignity of someone who could claim a victory of hard work.

Now down to three, the music became even more intense than ever as the Agents switched tracks over to the flute-and-rattle-filled Molgera Battle. The dancing warriors adapted to the switch with the fluidity of water, changing their tempos to match the slower beat.

One loop, two, three, five, eight, ten; the dancing continued mercilessly, the treated-oak floor becoming saturated with sweat and saliva. But Mario and Donkey Kong wouldn't let the other win—their concentration on the music and the other was so intense that Luigi's collapse didn't faze them. As the green brother slunk away to hearty applause, man and ape continued to dance with no thought. Their actions began to become closer in style; their individual beats started to become closer. An arm to the left, a foot to the right, three spins in a row—and the pair came out in the same pose: arms up, one knee down, head facing skyward, and mouths gasping for air. Link and Zelda couldn't have applauded more than any of the others in the crowd; surely, there could have been no other outcome.

As the rivals shook hands to signify respect, the Hylians turned away—and found three children dressed in homely ranch clothes staring at them.

"Hey, Link!"

"Oh, you two are so cute!"

"Why are you wasting time watching when you could be doing?"

Talo, Beth, and Malo. All three were children from Ordon. Which meant that…

"Link! How have you been?" Indeed, the children would go nowhere without the guidance of Rusl, craftsman of Ordon village.

Zelda stood by, a smile on her face, as Link was swarmed by three midgets and their guardian—and by a giant walking bruise. Link's face turned a lovely shade of scarlet when he realized that Midna, the Twilight Princess, had come, as well.

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"And so, I grabbed the gun and stared that cretin in its six eyes. As the hound charged, I got it in the eye with the gun! You know what I said then?"

Samus scratched Pikachu under his chin. "Some sort of pun, I suppose. What exactly?"

Pit giggled and struck a heroic pose, like he was aiming a weapon at a large foe. "Bark like a dog!"

Samus smiled, while Pikachu gave a groan—whether it was of contentment or disapproval, she didn't know. "Of course you did. Reminds me of when I fought this giant lava creature. I think it was called the 'Goyagma'. Adam had just authorized me to use my Varia Suit, which was good because—"

"'Authorized'? Surely you don't need to listen to anyone! You're Samus!"

The huntress sighed internally. Every time she told a story from the _BOTTLE SHIP_ escapade, someone always complained about the supposed need for her former commander's permission. "Pit, Adam was my commanding officer and one of the few people I respect back home. He's pretty much the only person I'd listen to and…Pit?"

The angel wasn't listening. Instead, Pit was watching something with concerned intent. Turning, Samus caught sight of what the commander of the Centurions was looking at: the argument between Fox McCloud and Panther Caroso. The entire Star Fox team was holding McCloud back, while Panther was restrained by Wolf and fellow teammate Leon Powalski. Even during the exchange, the conceited Panther held an air of superiority, while Fox exuded unquenchable determination—most likely the determination to cave Caroso's fuzzy face in.

By mutual agreement, huntress and angel moved in to stop the fight.

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The pulse of power—the sheer energy only held by an all-powerful being—drew the attentions of everyone in the room. All in attendance, Smasher and citizen alike, felt the approach of the indescribable presence that gave off such astonishing strength. The Elite Beat Agents seemed to have expected this, as they switched the track to the one song that heralded everything Smash Brothers.

_Audi famaaaaam…illius_

_Solus in hostes ruiiiiiit_

_Et patriam servaviiit._

_Audi famaaaaam…illius_

_Curcurrit quaeque…tetigit destruens._

The pulses of force became pounding waves, driving into the heads of the unprepared like inch-long nails under a sledgehammer. With each passing syllable—_Aaauuudi fa-amam illius_—the owner of the force came closer, bringing the full brunt of his power into the very room. The lyrics of the almighty Super Smash Brothers Brawl Main Theme were forced under the steamrolling pressure. Nobody heard the screams of fear and tension that tore from over a hundred throats. Nobody saw the looks of panic fixed onto over a hundred faces. All they saw…

_Splendor cresciiiiiit._

Over the dance floor hovered a massive disembodied white glove. Its "thumb" pointed out and to the left, showing that it was supposed to be a right hand.

The power receded, leaving brightly-colored confetti in its wake. The situation would have been humorous if the Smashers weren't used to this trick and the visitors were aware of what had just happened.

The glove spoke.

"Welcome, one and all. I am Master Hand, sponsor and organizer of the tournament and facilities you see before you." The Smashers' combined grown of irritation almost drowned out the rumblings of the rest. Master Hand was literally…a hand? "And you all thought my signature was a joke?

"Anyway, I would like to thank you all for coming today. Your friends and family appreciate all of your efforts for showing up on this wonderful evening. Today, and tomorrow, too, are special days. The night joining the two is the time when this world, a planet of much life and courage, passes its winter equinox and completes a full year of revolving around its sun. This is a time when the old thoughts of yesteryear are placed in the historical references, making room for the new concepts that will usher in the next era for this planet…"

While most paid rapt attention to the Spirit of Creation's heartfelt speech, there were those who decided not to stay and listen. Those that noticed the deserters shifted position to cover their escape.

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"Link, I can't believe you dragged me out here."

"Zelda, if I stayed there for much longer, I'd be waking up with a giant handprint on my face."

"You're so rude sometimes, you know that?"

"I'm a country boy. I don't know any better."

The princess gave her country's hero a playful shove.

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"Fox, what's this all about?"

"K…Krystal…I-I'm sorry."

The blue fox eyed her orange date with some concern. "For what? Fighting with Panther?"

"Uh-huh."

The vixen sighed. "Fox, I know you two don't get along. You're jealous of his attention—why do you think—"

"I know. It's just…"

"Fox, a little advice?"

"Huh?"

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"Get over yourself, angel boy."

"Samus, I'm telling you! I can't stay in that room! There's just no way all those Centurions will leave me alone when we're all confined like that."

The huntress had to hide her smirk—which wasn't too difficult in the dark of night. The pristine snowscape still glowed in the moonlight, which seemed to draw Pit's attention more than anything of Samus' face, anyway. "I guess I can't blame you."

Pit turned back. "Of course not. You're the queen of being alone." The two shared a quite chuckle before falling silent. The two shared a creaky porch swing on the eastern side of the dormitories. Pit had dragged Samus with him when he'd fled the constant pestering of the Centurions to make their commander engage the rival deity.

The winds were soft, but the bare brown branches of the few nearby trees rasped in the little breeze there was. Eventually, Pit got up enough nerve to ask, "So…what do you plan on resolving for this year?"

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"What do I resolve, Link? Simply to make more time for my friends."

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"'Resolve,' Fox? Why, to shoot down Panther at least once during our regular encounters, of course. What about you?"

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"Me, Samus? You want me to go first? …Well, I think I'll try to learn how to use a spear. It's like the only weapon I can't use at this point."

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"Zelda, I promise to learn how Mario keeps all those extra lives around so much."

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"Uh…uh…"

"Why don't you promise to be less jealous?"

"I think I'll do that, yeah."

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"Alright Pit. You really want to know?" The angel bobbled his head. "Alright. I want to be less lonely."

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On the roof of the residence hall, Pikachu observed three public displays of affection: two kisses and a hug. The Pokémon sat back on its haunches, pondering what he had just seen and heard. A Pokémon generally didn't resolve anything for a new year—survival always came first, which meant that to not be at one's best was death. Still, life here was comfortable and simple. Maybe he could get Master Hand to let him roam Viridian Forest every so often and look for someone to share the next year with.

Maybe he could get that someone to wear a human-made dress?

No, that was crazy talk.

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"**Well, thanks to that suggestion, this will be out in time—as in during the last sixth of the first day of 2011.**

"**To all of you who read, understand that this isn't just some sappy story with rushed couples at the end. This is a sappy story with rushed couples at the end made with all sorts of wishes for the future in mind. For those who have been lost, for those who have been found, and for those who need to find their way, give a thought this year. No need to donate anything. Just think once about how they deserve a good quality of life. If you are among those, all the better—it means you can sympathize more. Misery loves company, but hope loves hope. Which sounds rather narcissistic, actually.**

"**Happy New Year, everyone. May it be filled with peace, computers, warmth, and random strangers saying 'who are you and what have you done with my plate?' Ciao chow, and a late happy holidays."**


End file.
